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Jane Eyre I desired more...than was within my reach. Who blames me? Many call me discontented. I couldn't help it: the restlessness is in my nature it agitated me to pain sometimes.
Charlotte Bronte
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Charlotte Bronte
Age: 38 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 21
Died: 1855
Died: March 31
Novelist
Poet
Thornton
West Yorkshire
Syarŭllotʻŭ Pŭrontʻe
Ш. Бронте
Syarŭllotʻŭ Bŭrontʻe
Xialuodi Bolangte
Шарлотта Бронте
Sharlotta Bronte
Charles Wellesley
Charlotte Bronte
Cārla$15ṭti Pirāṇṭē
Douro
Karlotta Bronte
Mrs. Arthur Bell Nicholls
Tree
Florian Wellesley
Lord Charles Albert
Currer Bell
Charlotte Nicholls
Mrs. A. B. Nicholls
Hsia-lo-ti Po-lang-tʻe
Nature
Blame
Many
Reach
Eyre
Sometimes
Couldn
Agitated
Call
Blames
Within
Discontented
Help
Restlessness
Pain
Desired
Helping
Jane
More quotes by Charlotte Bronte
To see and know the worst is to take from Fear her main advantage.
Charlotte Bronte
I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the last.
Charlotte Bronte
You have introduced a topic on which our natures are at variance - a topic we should never discuss: the very name of love is an apple of discord between us. If the reality were required, what should we do? How should we feel? My dear cousin, abandon your scheme of marriage - forget it.
Charlotte Bronte
What the deuce is to do now?
Charlotte Bronte
It is far better to endure patiently a smart which nobody feels but yourself, than to commit a hasty action whose evil consequences will extend to all connected with you.
Charlotte Bronte
Would you not be happier if you tried to forget her severity, together with the passionate emotions it excited? Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs.
Charlotte Bronte
It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action and they will make it if they cannot find it.
Charlotte Bronte
The idea of seeing the sea - of being near it - watching its changes by sunrise, sunset, moonlight, and noonday - in calm, perhaps in storm - fills and satisfies my mind.
Charlotte Bronte
There is, in lovers, a certain infatuation of egotism they will have a witness of their happiness, cost that witness what it may.
Charlotte Bronte
Shake me off, then, sir--push me away for I'll not leave you of my own accord.
Charlotte Bronte
Now it is not everybody, even amongst our respected friends and esteemed acquaintance, whom we like to have near us, whom we like to watch us, to wait on us, to approach us with the proximity of a nurse to a patient. It is not every friend whose eye is a light in a sickroom, whose presence is there a solace.
Charlotte Bronte
Oft a little morning rain Foretells a pleasant day.
Charlotte Bronte
Do you like him much? I told you I liked him a little. Where is the use of caring for him so very much: he is full of faults. Is he? All boys are. More than girls? Very likely.
Charlotte Bronte
Thank you, Mr. Rochester, for your great kindness. I am strangely glad to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home—my only home.
Charlotte Bronte
I only want an easy mind, sir not crushed by crowded obligations.
Charlotte Bronte
Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre remorse is the poison of life.
Charlotte Bronte
I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.
Charlotte Bronte
It would not be wicked to love me. It would to obey you.
Charlotte Bronte
At heart, he could not abide sense in women: he liked to see them as silly, as light-headed, as vain, as open to ridicule as possible because they were then in reality what he held them to be, and wished them to be,--inferior: toys to play with, to amuse a vacant hour and to be thrown away.
Charlotte Bronte
I shall be thirty-one next birthday. My youth is gone like a dream and very little use have I ever made of it. What have I done these last thirty years? Precious little.
Charlotte Bronte